


One of a kind.

by Hanhanxx



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV), alfie solomon, arthur Shelby - Fandom, john shelby - Fandom, tommy shelby - Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-10 07:46:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12907392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanhanxx/pseuds/Hanhanxx
Summary: A female who is like no other is given the chance to work with the Peaky Blinders and Alfie Solomon. Will she refuse or work hand in hand





	1. The meeting

It was a cold night. I had a whiskey in hand, sitting by a fire. Yes it was quiet. Yes I might have been lonely but it was my life. 

 

A knock came at the door. I looked at the bottom of my glass. Do I open it or not? Can I be bothered to do another job? I picked up the courage and walked towards the door. My silk dressing gown flowed in the wind behind me. I opened the door, unimpressed as a teenage boy quivered in his boots as he handed me a letter. I grasped it from him and then coldly looked at him.  
‘What do you want, a medal?’ I snarked.  
He gulped and then ran away. I laughed to myself thinking how easily kids are frightened these days.  
I opened the letter and sighed;

**‘Dear**

****

**Your presence is needed at The Garrison on Thursday 22nd April 1920 7:30PM  
** **The Peaky Blinders and Alfie Solomons require your assistance. Payment and other details will be discussed in due course.**

**R’**

R I saw...The Russians.. they liked to whore me out. It was nothing out of the ordinary and it had happened before. I wasn’t surprised. I folded the letter and put it on my coffee table, thinking to myself where the fuck was The Garrison.

****

It was six o’clock. I stood outside a pub in cold Birmingham. I lifted my head and saw the sign ‘The Garrison’. Looking like a normal women with no agenda, I wandered in. I stood there for a second. It was very ...gold. I ordered a whiskey and took a seat in a round table in the corner. Discreet but still able to watch my surrounding. Nothing major happened in the time I drank my first whiskey. Men came and went, had one drink and didn’t bother with anyone else. It was not until seven that the doors swung open and three men with flat caps walked in. They looked around the pub and proceeded towards the table in the middle. They caught my eye - but not that I was staring - I knew they were they had walked by the change of the atmosphere. Their personalities seeped through their three piece suits. Their high cheekbones could cut glass; the Peaky Blinders. When you have been in this business as long as I have you know who your clients are. 

I looked over my glass but didn’t catch any of their eyes. They were anxious. Kept moving in their seats. Straightening out their suits. I laughed to myself, knowing that whatever they feared, it was not as bad as they thought. 

Ten minutes rolled by. I ordered another drink, whilst being completely invisible to these three men. The doors swung open again and a man with broad shoulders and a long beard walked in. ‘Alfie’ I said to myself. It must be. I knew the gangster type, I grew up with them. I’ve worked with them. They always walked like they owned the world and nothing could touch them. 

‘Oi Alfie over ‘ere,’ one of them cried.  
Alfie was looking straight at them even before the man spoke. They were nervous. It showed.

I heard heavy footsteps outside. I didn’t need to even look to know who they belong too: it was the Russians. 

Three men walked in, dressed exactly the same. A three piece suit with a white shirt and a red handkerchief folded in their jacket pockets. They were all the same height standing at 5”11. I had worked with them before, I recognised the smell of their cigarettes. They walked over in unison towards the Peaky Blinders and Alfie. They stood there for a minute looking at the British men in front of them, eyeing up their enemy. 

Silence. 

Nothing happened for five minutes. These men’s egos took the better of them and nothing happened. 

Looking out of the window but keeping my eye on the men through the reflection, I signed knowing this is exactly what would happen. Men’s egos no matter their nationality will always get the better of them.

A deep Russian accent echoed through the silence. ‘The widower has been contacted... But is not currently with us.’

‘Not currently with you?’ a cockney shouted. ‘We trusted you... Even though you’re a good for nothing Russian.’ 

I smiled to myself. I didn’t know why, but I did.

‘The widower was contacted.... it is up to them if they come here or not.’ 

Playing with the glass in my hand I kept an ear to the conversation that was happening to my right. The Russians basically saying that they had no control over this person, it was a matter of if they wanted the job or not. The men opposite them getting rather impatient and wanting action. 

One of the Peaky Blinders leaned forward and in a whisper said, ‘if you don’t produce the widower now.. I will blow your fucking brains out across this pub.’ 

The Russians didn’t even flinch. All three of them slowly wrapped their hands around their guns. 

The Peaky Blinder took this as a threat and pointed his gun towards one of the Russian’s heads. ‘Produce the widower now... I won’t ask again.’ 

I heard the gun clock and I knew this meant war. I got out of seat and walked towards the bar to order anything drink. 

Bang! 

My foot hit the table in the middle of the pub and I accidentally went flying, spilling the last drop of whiskey in my glass. 

 

‘I’m ever so sorry gentleman...clumsy me...let me buy you a round of drinks to make up for it,’ I said whilst keeping my head down so the Russians couldn’t see me. 

 

One of the Peaky Blinders stood up. He wasn’t the tallest of them but he had a moustache. One that he was proud of, I could tell by how well kept it was. 

 

He offered me his hand. ‘No worries darlin’ just don’t let it happen again.’ 

I stood there for a second. Looking into his eyes I smiled sweetly and refused his hand. I made way over to the bar and ordered another drink. The tension in the pub was high and the Peaky Blinders and Alfie were losing their patience. 

I tapped my fingers on top of the wooden bar. This was the only sound that could be heard. A few seconds went by, a strong hand came over mine and forced my hand to flatten. I looked to my right and were meet with the green eyes of the cockney man. He tutted at me. ‘Now look here darlin’ us men are trying to do business...and...and you’re just causing us a headache’ I smirked in his general direction. ‘So why don’t you go home and stay there…I don’t like asking twice darlin”  
I gasped ‘I would love nothing more Alfie Solomon.’ His once narrow eyes started to widen. ‘But you see...I have business here as well...and I can’t do that if I go home now can I?’ Alfie’s hand started to raise. I tutted and shook my head, he started to look down towards the floor, not realising that, whilst he was talking a knife was pressed against his femoral artery. One stab at the femoral artery and the person would be dead in four minutes. Alfie started to smirk, five guns started to clock and were pointed in my general direction. 

I stood there and just began to laugh.


	2. ‘I’m not working with a women Tommy’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Peaky Blinders and Alfie are still unsure. Could they ever work with a women in this way?

My laugh cut through the pub like glass. Confusion set upon Alfie’s face as my laughter came to a stop. I looked at my right hand, it was still pinned by the cockney. My left other wise occupied. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. 

_Five guns. Six men. Three stood six feet directly behind me. Three men stood at my four o’clock, five feet behind me._

I started to intertwine my fingers with the hand on top of mine. I took a deep breath, I then swung around and threw the knife that was pressing against Alfie and aimed for the Peaky Blinders. One by one it made the smallest cut on their right cheeks. The knife landed in a wooden pillar in between two windows. With my fingers still intertwined with Alfie’s I tug on his hand and spin around again, this time Alfie’s back was touching my front. Reaching up my thigh a second knife ripped through my garter and the edge was pressed against Alfie’s throat. 

Two guns clocked. I raised my head and saw the Russians putting their guns away. I nodded in their direction. It was that moment that the Russians knew who I was and what I am capable of. I heard a cough over Alfie’s shoulder. 

‘There is no way in this goddamn earth that you...a women...is the widower.’ 

I looked in the direction of the voice. Pressing the knife onto Alfie’s neck a little bit more to make sure that I drew blood. 

‘Now is that anyway of greeting your guest...Mr Shelby’ I laughed. 

‘I ain’t bloody working with no women Tommy’ the shortest man of the three of them said. 

They laughed in unison, still forgetting that I had a knife pressed against Alfie’s neck. I dropped it to the floor and proceed to walk to the table, I took a seat and pulled a cigarette out of the packet that was left on the wooden top. 

‘Don’t forget boys, you are the ones that need my help or otherwise I wouldn’t be here. So either tell me what needs doing, or I walk out that door never to be seen again’ I hate having my time wasted, time is money after all. 

‘Not a bloody chance in hell!’ The Shelby man with the moustache shouted. I looked him dead in the eye. One of the Russians cleared their throat and my attention was taken elsewhere. 

A thick Russian accent decided to speak. ‘We can assure you gentlemen, this is in fact the Widower… we have other business to attend to and must take our leave.’ Without a thought or hesitation the three Russian men vanished. 

I looked at the Peaky Blinders and smirked.  
‘So...what now...shall I let you..die...because you can’t seem to get over the fact of me being a women’ 

The only Shelby man- who must of been Tommy- grabbed something out of his jacket pocket and threw it at me. A letter. I opened it and there it was. The black hand. I lifted my head up and looked at him. 

‘Good luck with that one boys.’ I began to leave. 

‘Stop!’ 

I turned around and saw desperation in Tommy’s eyes.  
‘They have already tried to get my son. I...we need your expertise to help destroy them’ 

‘Tommy could we have a word’ Alfie ordered. All four men went into the back room. 

Thirty minutes they were gone and just left me there. Sitting in an empty pub in the middle of bloody Birmingham of all places. I decided to go behind the bar and pour myself a drink. By the time they had finished I was on my fourth whiskey. They stormed through one by one all with faces like thunder. 

‘Boys get over yourselves. You have obviously heard about my reputation and that I am the best in the business. Now that is no lie. Yes I am a women! But..if you want the mafia dead you are going to have to accept that fact. They will send their best and you need the best. So there isn’t a lot to talk about to be honest with you all, just say I’m hired and then I get to work...tomorrow’ 

Three men looked at Tommy, who shyly nodded. ‘You’re hired’ he said just above a whisper. 

‘Finally...now before I carry on drinking my terms are; three hundred pounds per kill. Knowing the mafia they will send anything between five to ten men. This is not up for negotiations boys.’ I smirked knowing that my final statement had got under their skin. Again Tommy nodded shyly. From under the bar I got four more glasses and poured the men some whiskey. I handed them each a glass and then raised mine. 

‘To the mafia...whom will soon be dead’


End file.
